“Leroy is making up a new batch of something,” Honey explained, dipping the spoon back into the honey. “Are you leaving already? You just got here.”
Nova ignored her question. “You do realize we’re trying to go unnoticed here, right?”
Honey smirked. “Sweetheart, some people just can’t help being noticed.”
Refraining from rolling her eyes, Nova asked, “Is Phobia here too?”
“No. Hasn’t been all day. I think he spent the night back in the tunnels. He’s better suited to the dankness and shadows, you know. Me? I’m so happy to be back in the sun.” She sighed and cast a sweet smile at the small, dirty window over the kitchen sink.
Nova twisted the doorknob and pushed her way outside. “Don’t get used to it,” she muttered, stepping out onto the slim concrete porch.
She trekked through their small patch of weeds and thorns, where Honey’s bees were busy restoring their hives as fast as they could. The day before, Nova had noticed how their buzzing seemed happier than it ever had down in the tunnels, but now it served as little more than a distraction. She turned into the alleyway behind the house and started in the direction of Blackmire Way. It was nearing dusk, and the shadows from the surrounding row houses filled up the narrow spaces between buildings. She passed boarded-up windows and graffiti-covered fences and yards full of tufted dandelions. A flicker of light caught her eye and she glanced up to the second story of the corner house just as someone was throwing open the window sash. She paused in surprise. She’d gotten so used to thinking of the neighborhood as deserted, she was startled to find that they might have neighbors after all.
Or perhaps it was only the man she had kicked out of her own house before.
She was turning away when the hairs prickled on the back of her neck. Her stomach clenched and her hand fell instinctively on the shock-wave gun at her belt.
It was, she realized a second later, a distinctive scent that had caught her attention. The sweet aroma of coconut body oil mixed with the faintly rotten taint of sulfur and gunpowder.
She forced her shoulders to relax as she turned, letting her hand fall from the weapon.
Ingrid was leaning against the side of the building Nova had just passed, one heel casually pressed against the brick, her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed in something that might have been intended to be a disguise: skinny black pants and a high-collared jacket that covered both her armbands and her midriff. Even her thick coils of hair had been imprisoned beneath a knit cap.
Otherwise, she did not look much different than she had the last time Nova had seen her, after they had fled from the tunnels. She was clean and did not seem to have gone hungry, at least, and only when Nova had the thought did she realize some part of her had been worried about her.
“How’s life in the Renegades?” Ingrid said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Have you completely turned your back on us yet, or are you still holding on to the charade that you’re on our side?”
Nova’s jaw twitched. “You and the others knew exactly what my plan and intentions were from the first day I decided to go through with this. Perhaps you’ll recall that you were the one who betrayed me, not the other way around.”
Ingrid waved one hand languidly through the air, as if she had long ago tired of these ruminations, though Nova felt they still hadn’t really had the chance to discuss what happened at the library. She understood that Ingrid had sought to exact some revenge against Captain Chromium and the Dread Warden by harming Adrian, and maybe even killing him. But she still couldn’t fathom what had possessed Ingrid to keep it from her. To lead her into that trap along with the rest of the team.
Except she also knew that she would not have gone along with it. It wasn’t in keeping with her mission, for one, and … she wasn’t convinced that Adrian, Ruby, and Oscar deserved to be incinerated by one of the Detonator’s bombs.
“What do you want?” said Nova. “Cyanide was the one who told you to leave, so if you’re wanting to move in or something, it’s not exactly up to me.”
“Please,” said Ingrid with a snort. “I’ve survived long enough without charity from you or Leroy Flinn or anyone else. The last thing I need is to be holed up in this ghost town.” She shot a rueful look at the surrounding alley.
“Then why are you here?”
“I have a proposition for you, Insomnia. One that stands to serve us both.”
Nova frowned. She knew Ingrid used her Renegade alias only to irritate her. The really irritating part, though, was that it worked.
“A proposition,” Nova drawled.
Ingrid nodded, though a dark smirk had crossed her features. “If you’re willing to hear it. Of course … you don’t have much of a choice. Assuming you don’t want all your new friends at Renegade Headquarters to find out exactly who Nova McLain really is.”
Nova’s brow furrowed, as much in dismay as anything. “Seriously, Ingrid? You’re blackmailing me?” She cast her eyes toward the sky, which had darkened to a cool violet. “What is going on with you? Ever since the Renegade trials you’ve acted like I’ve somehow become the enemy.” She took a few steps closer, tapping a finger against her own sternum. “I’m still Nightmare. I’m still the one you’ve been training for almost nine years, with one purpose. To destroy the Renegades. Not just Captain Chromium or the Council, not just a single patrol unit, but the whole lot of them. The entire organization. So maybe, instead of sneaking up on me in back alleys and threatening the one mission that might actually stand a chance in helping us accomplish that goal, you should take a moment and remember who we are. Who I am.”